


Something Sweet

by HDLynn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Caf Shop AU, F/M, One Shot, Paz can be a terrifying presence in general when he wants, Some Swearing, an attempt at physical assault happens, coffee shop AU, implied threats, mainly in Mando'a, self indulgent from my retail working days, some people being rude to food service workers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26012860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HDLynn/pseuds/HDLynn
Summary: When Paz is left waiting for his contact to arrive at a local caf cafe he meets you and ends up being a little bit of a knight in shining beskar when another customer gets confrontational.
Relationships: Paz Vizla/You, Paz Vizsla/Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 84





	Something Sweet

Paz tapped a button on his vambrace, bringing up the time on the inside of his visor. It had been exactly five minutes since he last checked, and he had already checked four times before that.

He huffed, feeling extremely out of place, this was no dingy or even normal cantina. His contact, who he needed to talk to about some specific medical supplies the covert needed, wasn’t as seedy as most he dealt with. No, this contact was more on the up-and-up, not the kind to skulk around in alleyways so they had sent him the address for the meetup. Paz wasn’t exactly sure what he had been expecting, but when he arrived slightly early he had not thought it would be a locally owned cafe.

It was a warmly sleek business, with sparking clean tile floors, soft tasteful music being piped in through speakers, and the aromatic scents of caf and baked goods permeating the air so deeply that he had been able to smell in outside even through the helmet’s filters.

He had seen the look of surprise on some of the employees’ faces when he had come in, Paz had tried his best to not move in a manner that was too… intimidating. He knew exactly the figure he cut even without the mini gatling gun on his back.

Disregarding the customer queue, Paz sat down at one of the solid wood tables that had the perfect view of the street and the inside of the cafe. The nice metal and leather chairs were, thankfully, more than sturdy enough to hold his robust frame without a hint of any issue.

There was a bit of whispering and side glances from other customers and the staff, but no one moved his way, which suited Paz just fine. And when he kept to himself, everyone else in the cafe slowly got back to doing their normal routines, for the most part.

That was until about ten minutes later when he saw you. You strolled out from the swinging door that, he assumed, led to the backroom, just finishing tying up the starched and pristine black apron around your waist. One of the other girls rushed over and whispered something to you, and Paz saw the girl try (and fail) to gesture in his direction discreetly.

So it was no surprise when you made your way over to his table and he was rather sure he was about to be kicked out of this establishment by the staff before he even had his meeting.

But you didn’t tell him he had to leave, instead you asked if he wanted to order anything.

“Hi, is there anything I could get for you today?” You asked in a bright tone that… Paz wasn’t sure if it was your normal one. It wasn't fake, per-say just almost aggressively chipper if that was possible. It threw even Paz for a moment as he looked at your name emblazoned on the small silver pin attached to the front of your apron.

“I am waiting on someone for a meeting,” Paz explained, “and I don’t require anything. I’m not always one for hot caf anyways.” He tapped a finger against his helmet, hoping that his slight quip landed. They didn’t always with the whole wearing a helmet deal, but Paz hoped the humor might buy him some goodwill.

“Oh, yes,” he watched you blink and then understanding come over you, a hint of a smile twitching at the corner at your lips, your tone relaxing a bit, not as high pitched. “Please, feel free to let me or anyone behind the counter if there is anything we can get you while you wait.”

Any further conversation was cut off suddenly by a raised voice from the counter.

“I demand to speak to your manager!” the man at the front of the line commanded so loudly that the whole of the cafe seemed to pause to watch. One of the girls, a younger teal twi’lek, at the register cowered at the venom in his voice.

“What seems to be the problem, sir?”

Ah, there was his — no not “his” — little waitress. Paz was impressed at how quickly you had crossed the cafe from his table to try and head off this customer’s issue.

He watched as you placed a steady hand on the cashier’s trembling shoulder, and Paz could instantly see how the young Twi’lek calmed at the touch.

“I demand to speak to a manager,” the customer spat with derision, “this Twi’ charged me twice for my drink!”

“I am the manager currently on shift.” You intoned, face carefully schooled as you gently pushing the other employee away. You were getting her out of the situation, out of the line of fire, before she started to weep.

You then spoke to the girl, ignoring the man for a moment, “Auli, go help Niko in the back. They need help with the new shipment, alright?”

The Twi’lek, Auli, nodded her head quickly and immediately fled to the back room.

It clicked in his mind suddenly why you had been the one to wait on his table, the rest of the floor staff had been too afraid to deal with him, probably the other hourly manager as well. So when you had arrived it had become your duty to “handle” the big Mandalorian and you had. You had handled him without so much as a tremor in your voice, probably instantly relieved when he had been polite, unlike this shabuir. You were this cafe’s cabur’ika — its little guardian — Paz thought to himself. 

Paz would have laughed, if he didn’t have a large amount of self-control, at the sharp look in your eyes as you began to deal with the irate customer. You seemed to have things well in hand so he turned away to keep an eye out for his contact.

He told himself he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation happening, still trying to watch for his contact who he was going to chew out for being, what was it now? Tapping the same button again to bring the time up again, he saw the contact was now twenty minutes late. This was absolutely ridiculous.

But then your voice broke through his mental grumbling, sounding lethally icy.  
“Sir, if you are going to threaten any employees here, I’m going to have to insist you leave the store. Sir!”

Paz looked just in time to see the irate customer take a step towards his cabur’ika. The customer’s hand slapped at two ceramic mugs on the counter, sending them crashing to the ground, the sharp sound of the shattering porcelain filling the air. Fragrant and dark caf flooding the floor from the broken cups as the man tried to grab at Cabur’ika’s wrist. 

Seeing your eyes open up wide in fear, Paz was up out of his seat before he knew it. The chair he had been occupying, made a painful screeching sound as the metal feet dragged across the slick floor. It was enough to draw everyone’s attention, except for the irate customer’s until Paz’s booming voice sank into his thick skull.

“I suggest you do as the lady said, Hut’uun,” contempt dripped from his tone. This was supposed to be a quiet and safe place, Paz could clearly see that, and having this… creature — for this was not a man in Paz’s opinion — try to enact violence here? That would not do.

The man whipped around, furious at having been disrupted from terrorizing you and then instantly paled. Pale blue eyes bulged as Paz slowly stood up to his full height. The Mandalorian was at least a full head and a half taller than this coward and that would have been without the bulk of his helmet, armor, and boots.

“But-“

“Get. Out.” Paz said quietly, but the words filled with a promise of pain if the man continued to argue. He hadn’t even needed to take a step closer, or move his hand closer to his blaster, the di’kut had enough sense to practically run out of the cafe at this point. Didn’t have enough balls to apologize or even toss an insult over his shoulder as he fled.

As Paz sat back in his seat, his cabur’ika — _no, Paz, not your cabur’ika_ , he reminded himself again — gave him a thankful nod and a flash of a strained smile from across the room. Tension still sat in her shoulders, but she quickly called for a cleaning droid to take care of the mess and went to help the next customer.

The cafe slowly filled with noise again. Awkward at first, tension still hanging in the air, but then Cabur’ika cracked a joke with the next customer at the hut’uun’s expense and their laughter was the final key for everyone to relax again.

It was right about then his contact finally decided to waltz in. Thank the maker.

~*~

As the small silver and grey cleaning droid picked up the broken pieces of ceramic mugs and mopped up, you were manning the register.

Your hands were still slightly shaky as you had helped serve the next few customers. They had seen the whole exchange and were thankfully very understanding as everyone on staff took a moment to recover from the previous asshole’s hissy fit.

It wasn’t the first time you had been rudely talked to, or yelled at or even been called a liar. You had seen plenty of misbehaving customers be it directed towards the employees at the cafe or other customers. But today had been the first time someone had tried to physically grab you and it had left you understandably shaken. Shaken and very grateful for your big blue Mandalorian. 

Mando had only to speak a few words and the situation had resolved, the customer who liked to think himself a big person for picking on service staff not able to back up a threat of violence when a kriffing Mandalorian had stepped in to challenge him. But you doubted very many would go up against such a man as the blue-clad warrior was at least not in a caf cafe, the Mando practically oozed practiced authority from his very being

While you had been getting everything sorted again, the person he was meeting finally arrived and ordered a cup of black caf.

Honestly, you thought it was quite rude for this person who arranged this meeting to have planned it for a place that the helmeted Mandalorian could not partake of any food or drink that was available. Well… upon second thought maybe you could think of something that might be a sort of token of appreciation and perhaps make up for his friend’s rudeness. 

“Auli?” You waited for your coworker to turn to you before continuing, “Could you make a little to-go bag for me? Some kessinnamon rolls and jogan fruit tarts?”

“Sure!”

You smiled at the young Twi’lek girl, she had thankfully bounced back quickly from being yelled at. She was a darling girl and you hated that you hadn’t picked up on that man’s mood earlier, he had come in today looking for someone to pick on and went right for the softest person on the floor. You made a mental note to keep a better eye out for such situations as you grabbed one of the larger cups.

You had started at the cafe as a regular cashier and then graduated to a barista before being promoted to shift manager, so it was second nature to be making drinks again. You still did it many times anyways if the cafe was slammed badly. 

Combining the cold brew caf and a bit of liquid sweetener, you stirred it all together with a long metal spoon, keeping an eye out to make sure your timing was right. You had been working at the cafe for so long you could just tell when a conversation was about to wrap up and you were pretty sure… yep, there was the handshake.

Topping off the iced drink with a bit of a light sweet-cream and popping on a cup lid, you then got the little bag of pastries from Auli and slipped from behind the counter. 

Taking a deep breath, you walked over to the table where the Mandalorian was still seated right as the person he had been meeting with was leaving.

You set the paper bag and then the drink down in front of Mando, thick drops of condensation already streaking down the side of the sturdy plastic cup. The caf sloshed gently, ice suspended and floating, like how you sort of felt at the moment. The impenetrable dark visor just staring at you was, of course, unreadable. 

Before you lost your nerve you practically brandished a straw at the huge man, how he could still be so large while still seated you didn't know.

“I didn’t order this, Cabur’ika,” he stated, voice amused and much softer than you figured was possible coming out of a vocal modulator. Surely his voice must be even more like warm, molten sugar without the helmet to get in the way. The blue helm tilted slightly in question, waiting for your response to his statement, making no move to take the straw.

“It’s a thank you,” you explained, feeling heat fill your face and run down your neck, you felt like your every word was being examined closely. 

You tried to give him the straw again, “I figure you could at least drink this with the straw.”

“Kih'parjai. Do not speak of it. I don’t require any gifts,” he said, his tone carefully neutral. 

You couldn’t tell if he was offended or amused at your offerings, so you squinted at the Mando, tongue pressing at the roof of your mouth in thought.

“Well… if you don’t want it,” you said, drawing back slightly, “That’s alright, but it will just get tossed out. We can’t serve any food products that had already left from behind the counter.”

“No, I’ll take it,” the answer came a lot softer, so much softer, then you could have ever imagined as he took the paper-wrapped straw from you. His gloved hand massive, in comparison to yours, but almost painfully careful in the gentleness he used to take the straw.

“Thank you, Cabur’ika.”

Pleased at the large armored man having acquiesced to accepting your gift, you gave him a bright smile, “You are very welcome, and thank you. Honestly, you’re welcome back here anytime.”

There was a slightly awkward moment as the blue Mando made a grunt that you couldn’t help but imagine came with a bit of a smile behind that helmet. But that might have just been your flight of fancy, reading what you wanted in that blank helm rather than what was actually behind it.

Auli called your name, needing help with something behind the counter, the line having built up again.

Turning back, you didn’t even think as you pressed a hand softly against his gloved one, “Have a great rest of your day, Mando, and thank you again.”

“You too, Cabur’ika.”

~*~

You had known you probably would never see the Mandalorian again, why would he come back anyways? Yet… you couldn’t help but look for him on your next shift and then the one after that. Looking every single time you worked the rest of the week. But, of course, he was a traveler, as all Mandos were said to be these days. You had only seen one other Mando before him and that had been years ago and in a public space, not at all in a tiny local cafe.

The first week had been the worst, for you knew you had pinned some silly bit of hope of there maybe being something more. Pinning that hope right onto that blue helmet and now felt entirely foolish for it. Maker, you had even touched his hand, you hadn’t thought about it twice in the moment but on reflection? You knew exactly why you had done that, because you had fallen head over heels into a crush over the quiet yet extremely polite warrior. For who else but a warrior could have such a commanding presence?

No, you had put too much on every little interaction and probably made him uncomfortable by having dared to touch him. The helmet had been the perfect blank page for you to project your feelings onto and having no real idea of the truth. That Mando had been being polite with you and nothing more. He had disappeared at some point during the rush you and Auli had been working, never to be seen again.

So, around week two, you stopped looking for him every single time the door opened and a new customer came in, it never was him anyways.

There was one burning question though, one you hadn’t even thought to ask at the time. What in the galaxy did “cabur’ika” mean? At first, you thought maybe it meant “waitress” but somehow you didn’t think so.

That was the question still bothering you as you were doing inventory in the back at a slow part of the day. You’d have to order at least two varieties of caf beans soon, as well as more to-go cup lids. Where did all the kriffing lids go anyways? You were broken from your concentration over the mystery of the missing plastic lids and wondering cabur’ikas by Auli calling your name.

“Yes?”

“Someone is asking for the shift manager,” Auli said, looking… not nervous? But something else? You weren’t sure what emotion was on her face. 

Odd. There must be some sort of issue though.

Sighing, you set aside the holopad with the backstock information on a shelf and followed Auli, not sure what mess you might find today. Hopefully, it was just a complaint about one of the seasonal drinks being out and done for the year.

Instead, you stopped short at the door.

“Hello, Cabur’ika,” came the warm sugared voice that had haunted your daydreams.

Looking up into the dark visor, you didn’t even bother trying to temper the wide grin that came over your face as you saw the familiar tall figure, shoulders looking broad enough to hold up the sky if he felt the need to. Maybe you’ll have a chance to ask that question after all.

~*~*~

 **Translations:**  
Cabur’ika - little guardian  
Shabuir - an extreme insult like “jerk”, but much stronger (such as: asshole)  
Hut’uun - coward (worst possible insult)  
Di’kut - idiot  
Kih'parjai - No problem. Don't mention it. (Lit: small victory)


End file.
